Oy. It’s been a w e e k my friends. Seriously. Thank. Goodness. It’s. Friday. Can I get an amen?
There were some good things. Like Harrison turning one. And my other children not permanently maming each other while playing ninjas. And still benefitting from the invention of the light bulb. But the collection of happenings definitely had me saying, “WOOOOOEEEEE DOGGIES“.
We started with the stitches. Which I know was actually on Saturday. But it’s all running together at this point. Because then the barfs took center stage. Which pretty well wiped out post-church on Sunday to sunrise on Monday. Sunday night, Jonah was up every 14 minutes over night screaming out I WANT WATER while attempting a prison break style jimmy-legging run to the refrigerator to pilfer any bit of liquid he could. Because of course, he was told he could not have anything. So, of course, he needed water more than he’s ever needed anything else in his entire existence. And sadly, I am only slightly exaggerating on the timeframe. It may have been more like every 19-22 minutes but it was not far beyond that. From 9 o clock in the eve to 5 o clock in the morn. Every 19-22 minutes he would scream out, into a cry, complete with the I want water phrase. I can only guess that he felt it necessary to scream it in hopes that Harrison would plop down out of his crib, walk down the stairs, and fill a sippy for his endearing brother. As no one else would answer to his requests. J-bird also seemed to get tired of throwing up once the count reached the teens as he began laying down mid-puke, meaning there was a solid layer of vomit almost anywhere within his sphere of spewing.
After that horrendous night, we started the week off with a major sleep deficit. And I do not do well with sleep deficits. That’s why I never went to med school {Okay. That and the fact that I can’t do math or science. And I question my ability to be serious when necessary}. So sleep deficit in play, allllll the children and the hubs were home Monday. And everyone was nursing aching bellies. And I was doing a whole load of laundry. Actually, many many loads. Thankfully, Barf Fest 2014 came just in time for the arrival of Tuesday, aka the day Adam flew out for Denver {I am seriously just thankful it wasn’t Christmas week. Thank you, thank you, thank you}. Which was also Jonah’s second day home from school. Which funneled right into an emotional morning on Wednesday morn for me over our final son’s arrrival to the ripe young age of one. And celebrating one year of my rad belly scar. So I may have been a wee weepy Wednesday. But we did make it through Christmas cookie making {because there’s nothing better to bounce back from the stomach flu} and a semi-celebratory dining experience for the three boys and myself at Chick Fil A without incident, so there’s that. And by semi-celebratory, I mean that we actually left the house and then returned, all in one piece.
I am certain we survived all of yesterday because I am still standing this morning. But I am also certain it was by the skin of my teeth. I may have actually sleep-lived the entire Thursday. But I feel like if I had, I would feel more rested today.
Do you ever have weeks like this? Where your children have sucked every last bit of your energy? Both literally and figuratively. I mean really, there was nothing really intrusive about the week. It’s not like our home started on fire. Or we were quarantined with Ebola. The kids were actually realllly good while he was gone {Thank you, sweet baby Jesus}. And there was actually nothing eventful, per se. Except my sanity completely evacuating my body. But jeezey louisey mac n cheesy, 60 hours from sons up to sons down all by my lonesome, on top of the stomach flu, and stitches had me more drained than a Real Housewife after a reunion show.
I know kids get sick. But that doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it. And I know kids have head injuries. Oh, wait… Maybe that’s just true for us. And I know that some of you have spouses who travel all the time. Or even no spousal help. So I should quit my moanin’ and groanin’. But I am not made to be a one-woman-show. I have friends who are really good at managing the home fires on their own as their husbies travel and such. And applaud you Wonder Women. But I am just not good at it. Or at least, I am not currently equipped for such heavy lifting. On Wednesday night I realized there is still puke on my couch. Yesterday, I apparently walked around from breakfast until 4:30 in the pm with two puffs stuck to my inner thigh/butt area {they’re like Gremlins. Get them wet and they are on you like the plague}. At points, my house looked a little Grey Gardens-esque, as Harrison leaves a paper trail everywhere he crawls, Jonah has amassed 4 sippies in his bed, and Barrett leaves scraps from his art creations from here to Timbuktu. My baby was barely clothed.
And I watched 8 episodes of Gilmore Girls in two post-boy bedtime periods… which, also sadly means I have once again completed the series. I am not a productive member of society like this, folks.
Today… it’s Friday. We’re to the finish line of this week. And as much as I am all about finding ways to smell the roses, there will be no sniffing today. Some weeks, I just can’t sniff, my friends. Today we are getting sir J bird’s stitches removed which should only take about 7 people to accomplish. {Just a guesstimation given the fact that it took 4 people to introduce them to his noggin in the first place.} So I may start hittin’ the bottle around noon to prepare for that appointment. And I may give a swig to Harrison while I’m at it to abate the torment he’s receiving from his ghastly gum-haters; the two neighbors to the two big guys upstairs {Not to be confused with The big Guy upstairs}. Perhaps a little nip will curtail his future attempts to chomp down while eating and de-nipple me as has seemingly been his goal for the week. And if I can just get through the day… nipples in tact, stitches removed without sedation, and still lucid, I will call that a win. I’m not gonna lie… some weeks in motherhood I feel like I’m livin’ it up. Lately, in fact, I’ve felt like we’ve been back in a peak after a bit in the valley. But others, like this one, I feel like tequila shots at noon might not be such a bad route to take. And I think that’s okay as long as the kids are joining in, right? Hey, it is Friday, after all.
So, I say it again. Oy. It’s been a w e e k. So THANK. Goodness. It’s. Friday. I suppose THAT’S the silver lining. FRIDAY. The weekend. Hopefully free of all bodily fluids flying from the mouths of babes. Raise your glass, my friend. Cheers to the freakin’ weekend.
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++A big shout out to my cousin Travis and his fabulous wife-to-be, Kelly, who will be celebrating their nuptials this weekend! Wish we could be there to celebrate. As a wedding gift, we would like to offer up babysitting of all three boys on any weekend of your choice. At our house. While we leave. You’re welcome. And we love you!
+++ Per the uzh, any mention of children drinking is in full jest. I would never want to waste good liquor on people who can’t enjoy it.
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